


Repercussions

by MamzelleHermy



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Post 1x11, Spoilers for 1x11, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamzelleHermy/pseuds/MamzelleHermy
Summary: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 11.Story following what would be happening after the end of the episode. Because, obviously Malcolm Bright is not okay.
Comments: 46
Kudos: 273





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, me again I guess.
> 
> To be honest, this story really went over me. It will be multi-chapter but I thought I'd post the first part right now to hear from you all and stop myself to be discouraged in the middle of it. 
> 
> It really has been a long time since I've written that much but I guess that's what happens when you have such good characters and storylines, isn't it?
> 
> Oh, and sorry for any mistakes. I did watch the episode only once and English my mother language... But I still hope this will be good enough.

If asked, Malcolm would certainly not have been able to say how he was still able to walk –if what he was doing was even walking- let alone be conscious. Really, he didn’t know. He felt dizzy with blood loss, the stab wound on his side having once more started to heavily bleed after the quick but still exhausting fight with John Watkins and more shaky than he had ever before. And that was saying something for him.

It felt like he was drowning in panic, barely able to keep his thoughts from plunging into a _what if I’m too late_ scenario.

Maybe that’s what kept him upright, trudging slowly and painfully through _his_ house, the house he thought he knew so well. Part of him thought distantly that if he’d believe in a higher authority, he probably would be praying right now.

He was so out of it with fear and exhaustion that he didn’t even noticed his mother until she cried out for him. But the utter relief he felt at her voice gave him new energy to pick up his head and walk towards her. Before that moment; he never thought he would ever be so happy to see his overbearing, over caring mother. But he had to admit that, right at that moment, he never felt happier to have her throw herself at him, even when she hit his now-broken and fiercely throbbing hand.

His half-hearted comment was met with the expected concerned look but quickly ignored as Ainsley entered the room, looking just as relieved as he felt. If not more.

This time he didn’t even say anything when she hugged him, hitting both his hand and the wound on his side. He was just too glad to be able to hug both his mother and his sister. Alive and breathing. He let himself hug them more tightly than ever before, reassuring himself that they were not an hallucination. Because surely, he couldn’t hallucinate this, right?

Sudden doubt crawled in his tired mind. He already had several hallucinations. Not too long ago he was hearing his father encouraging him to hit John until the man couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

_Did he do it?_

No. He locked John in a box. Like the girl. _Or did he?_ What if that was the hallucination.

_What if it had never happened?_

_No_ , he told himself firmly, tightening his grip with strength he really shouldn’t possess after bleeding out for God knows how long, trying to stop his breath from shortening,

_No, this is real, it’s real. I know it._

He didn’t notice he was talking out loud until his mother pulled back to look at him, brows frowned.

“Malcolm?” She said, worry evident in her eyes and voice.

He didn’t answer, he wouldn’t even know where to start.

“Mal, you okay?” Ainsley asked, really taking in him too, her eyes widening as they met his shirt. “You’re bleeding!”

She tried to reach for him but he panicked suddenly, breathe escaping him in gasps as he stumbled back.

“Mom! We need to call an ambulance!”

His eyes fell on his mother as she seemed to freeze. He never saw her like that. She looked… Terrified.

“Mom!” Ainsley’s panicked cry made him jerk, hissing as the pain the movement created.

He watched as his mother left the room, the sound of her high heels echoing through the empty halls.

“Malcolm. I think you need to sit down.” Ainsley said gently, turning back towards him, hands outstretched towards him but not getting closer, as if scared he would run away.

_Would he? Could he even?_

The room swam before him and he distantly thought that, _yeah_ , _sitting down could be a good idea_.

He tried to do it but his coordination was officially shot and his version of sitting resembled more to falling on the ground with a loud thud and a painful groan. And it seemed that once he was off his feet, his whole body decided that it had enough and he let himself lie down on the expensive floor, closing his eyes as adrenaline fled his body, making him feel like a stringless marionette.

He thought he could hear voices around him and hands on him. He thought that he should open his eyes, fight back or something, but really, this time, it was too much effort. He was tired. Tired of fighting. So he just let his consciousness dissolve to blackness, not even having the energy to worry about the demons that could be waiting for him there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the second chapter! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and Kudo'd and commented the first chapter! You made my heart swell!
> 
> I can only hope that this will be up to your expectations!

To say Gil was frustrated would be the understatement of the year, if not the decade. He had been well passed frustrated for at least 15 hours, hell, he had been frustrated since the whole Junkyard Killer, and Malcolm’s obsession with him, started. But that was nothing compared to what he was feeling, stuck at Clairemont, trying, and failing, to get anything out of the infamous Doctor Whitly. Right now he was downright pissed off. Pissed off at Martin’s unwillingness to cooperate. Pissed off at Martin’s firm belief that Malcolm was dead. Pissed off at himself for not being able to completely refute that idea in the privacy of his own mind.

Dani’s call certainly did not help. In fact, it only made him even more angry, even more desperate. There had to be something, anything, Martin could say to help. Hell, it looked like he was the only person John Watkins was ever close too. He _had_ to know something.

Gil had to repress the voice in his head that told him that this was precisely the reason why it was so hard to not listen to Martin when he said Malcolm was already dead.

_No_. The inspector told himself firmly. _Malcolm is alive. He is stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He is alive._

He ran after the guards dragging a drugged-up Martin back to solitary. The man looked so out of it, so far away from his usual self that Gil almost pitied him. Almost.

He wasn’t quite sure what he told Martin but he remembered the cold feeling of dread that filled him at the Surgeon’s voice.

“He’s going to kill them all.”

Gil cursed as he ran out of the cell, back in the corridor, phone already in hand, dialing the precinct to request units to be dispatched to the Whitly’s residence. That done, he immediately tried to call Jessica, arriving at his car and starting the engine while he listens to the phone’s ringing, praying for the woman to pick up.

He didn’t listen to the answerphone message before hanging up, speeding up in the streets as fast as he dared, police lights and siren blaring.

It took him half an hour to get there, each minute feeling like years, letting his brain imagine thousands of scenarios, each one more terrible than the other. Because no longer was only Malcolm at risk, now his whole family, the one thing keeping him somewhat normal, was too.

What would happen if Jessica or Ainsley were hurt and Malcolm survived? Gil already knew the guilt, no matter how ill-placed it was, would crush whatever sanity his boy had left. Gil just knew he would never recover from this.

He forced deep breathes in his lungs, knowing all too well that panicking would not help.

That thought was crushed the moment he saw the ambulance parked in front the familiar house. His heart dropped in his stomach and bands wrapped around his lungs, making breathing almost impossible.

He jumped out of his car, letting the door open and forgotten as he sprinted up the street than the stairs, blind and deaf to everyone around him. Somehow, he found himself at Jessica’s room doorstep, registering the woman and her daughter huddled together in one corner, eyes fixed on the floor a few feet in front of them.

Almost unwillingly, his eyes followed and fell on three medics surrounding a man lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of darkness. He let out a gasp as he recognized Malcolm. The man he considered like his own son. He took in the bandaged hand and blood-soaked shirt. _So much blood_.

“Oh my God, Malcolm...” He whispered, heart stopping and nausea rising as he tried to take a step closer, wanting, needing, to do something to help.

He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“You’ve got to let them work.” The broken whisper that was Jessica’s voice tore new holes in his already fractured heart.

He was speechless for long seconds, eyes fixed on the medics tightly bandaging Malcolm’s abdomen, talking fast and low between each other.

“What happened?” He finally asked.

“He saved us.” She answered.

He wanted to ask more, ask how saving them meant getting stabbed in the process, ask what happened to John Watkins but the medics had obviously finished stabilizing Malcolm enough and were moving him to a gurney, preparing to leave.

“You should come with us too, you have to get that gash looked out.” One of the medics said, standing near Ainsley, a comforting hand on her arm.

“Is my brother going to be okay?” The journalist asked, looking lost.

“We can’t say everything until we get to the hospital. He lost a lot of blood but it doesn’t look like any major organ was hit.”

The words didn’t do much to alleviate the tense silence in the room. But no one wanted to talk more about it and they all followed the medics, Ainsley letting herself be helped in the ambulance while Gil lead Jessica to his car.

The silence in the car as they followed the blue lights was almost tangible. It pressed against Gil, making it impossible to ask the questions that were still plaguing him. So he focused on driving, regularly glancing to Jessica, watching as she nervously twisted her fingers. Gil tried not to notice the blood on them.

They arrived just after the ambulance and parked not much better but Gil still couldn’t care. They hurried through the door only to be stopped by a nurse informing them that they had to stay in the waiting room.

Gil tried to flash his badge, which didn’t help, and he fully expecting Jessica to start screaming but, surprisingly, she just nodded and obeyed, looking exhausted and defeated.

They both sat down heavily, preparing for a long wait, the sounds of a busy hospital surrounding them.

“I can’t believe this happened.” Gil heard Jessica whisper, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Gil’s mind flashbacked to all the times he saw Malcolm in the same position.

“How could _Martin_ know _my_ family house better than I do?” She carried on, seemingly to no one.

“Jessica...”

“He let that... Monster into _my_ home while _my_ children were there. That man even gave Ainsley a fucking angel!”

Gil didn’t thought he ever heard Jessica Whitly swear out loud and was frozen speechless. She deflated with a heavy sigh after the sudden burst of anger and Gil saw the fear in her body’s language.

“Jessica... It’s going to be okay. Ainsley’s going to be just fine... And Malcolm too.”

“You can’t know that! You haven’t seen him! He...” A repressed sob interrupted her and Gil could only put his arms across her shoulders.

“He is strong. You know it. He is a survivor. He will be fine.” Gil was not sure who he was trying to comfort but he let himself believe in his words.

It was only true. Malcolm was nothing if not strong. He lived on a daily basis with constant fear and anxiety and yet managed to help hundreds of people without the slightest concern to his own well-being.

He let his arm drop once Jessica looked to have gathered herself, settling back in his chair.

Now that the heat of the moment had passed, he felt... Useless. Not the same useless as when he was searching for Malcolm, struggling with no clues and negotiations with the FBI. No, this was the kind of useless that can only be felt in hospitals when you know you had to rely on total strangers to help your loved ones.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and reached for it, only realizing when he saw Dani’s name on it that he had forgotten to do something crucial: update his team.

“Excuse me, I have to take this.” He mumbled, getting up.

He took a deep breathe before accepting the call.

“You found him? And you didn’t tell us?” Dani’s voice came over her tone angry but so relieved it was shaking.

“Dani, I’m sorry. I... Was taken by the events.”

“What happened? Colette didn’t tell us much and JT and I headed back before she got more info.”

“I’m... Not quite sure myself. The Surgeon told me of a hidden room in Jessica’s house, he was quite sure John was there is he wasn’t at the Cabin. I called units but by the time I got there...”

He interrupted himself, seeing Malcolm bleeding on the expensive dark flor again.

“What Gil? How is he?”

The older man shook his head.

“He’s... Alive.”

“Alive?” He hated the fear he put in her voice.

“He was stabbed and one of his hands was broken... We’re in the ER now but we’ve not been given any updates yet.”

He heard her relay his words to JT and thought he could hear a curse. He smiled a little. It looked like he had been wrong in his first assumption, Malcolm had grown on his colleague.

“We’re still two hours away from the city. Keep us updated? Please?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry I didn’t earlier.”

“It’s okay. Talk to you later.”

Gil hang up, watching the screen go dark, wondering if Malcolm knew just how appreciated he was by his colleagues.

* * *

An hour and a half passed in silence as people came and went, before Ainsley appeared, her head wrapped in heavy bandages.

“Baby!” Jessica cried out, reaching her daughter and hugging her tightly. “How are you? How’s your head? What did the doctors say?”

“I’m fine Mom, a bump and a few sutures. It will be hard to wash my hair for some days but I’m fine. Have you heard from Malcolm? How is he?”

Jessica deflated, leading her to a chair.

“We’re still waiting for an update.”

Ainsley’s shoulders dropped, tears filling her eyes. Jessica took her hand, squeezing it so hard Gil could see her knuckles turn white.

And that’s how Dani and JT found them as they walked into the waiting room, both looking frayed. Gil stood up even if he didn’t really know what to say.

“Any news?” Dani asked worriedly.

Gil shook his head.

“I’ll go get coffee.” JT proposed, obviously trying to act like he wasn’t just as worried as the rest of them.

Hot drinks were emptied long before, finally, a doctor came to talk to Jessica and Ainsley.

Gil observed them as the doctor talked, trying to read their body’s language. But it seemed like all his police training was failing him. He felt Dani’s hand grip his forearm in a rare display of fear. He placed his own hand on hers.

“He’ll be fine.” He repeated lowly.

Dani didn’t answer but jumped up as Jessica and Ainsley came back, eyes tearful but shoulders slightly less tense than before.

“He’s going to be okay.” Jessica announced, voice shaky with relief. “They had to give him a blood transfusion and cast his hand but he’s going to be okay. They’ll move in a room and keep him in observation for a couple of days just to make sure he won’t suffer from any complication but they’re confident he’ll be fine.”

The relief that Gil felt knocked the breath out of him and he let his shoulders bow. He heard Dani’s and JT’s relieved sighs.

“Can we see him?” Dani asked.

Gil looked up to watch Jessica and Ainsley exchange a look.

“Well...” Ainsley said, obviously unsure how to answer. “The doctor said we’d be allowed later but....”

“It’s okay. We get it. Just... Tell him we’re glad he’s okay.” JT picked up, placing his hand on his partner shoulder. “Come on Dani, we have a lot of paperwork to write.”

Gil prepared to leave with them but Jessica stopped him.

“Gil. Wait. You should stay. You’re his family too. And I’m sure he’s going to want to see you.”

The emotion that gripped the older man was just as intense as the fear of the last hours but this time, instead of dreadful cold it felt incredibly warm.

And if someone would mention the tears that filled his eyes, it’d blame the hospital AC for irritating them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will now be anxiously waiting to hear from you all.
> 
> Don't worry, I've started Chapter 3 (and I have to say, this story really escaped me there but what can I say, my writing brain is really weird)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the next chapter! 
> 
> Really my heart is overwhelmed at the response I've got for this story! I can't begin to express how happy I am at it! 
> 
> Thank you all!

_ You just have to find your calling Malcolm. _

_ We are not so different you and me.  _

_ After all you did try to kill me. _

Malcolm jerked up, the pain of a knife ripping through his side very real. 

He gasped, images still flashing in front of his eyes,  Watkins , sneering at him, brandishing an axe, threatening his family.

“Bright! Bright! Malcolm! Calm down!” The voice reached him from far away.

He struggled to determine if it was real or not.  _ Is this  _ _ an _ _ hallucination? _

“Gil?” He asked, voice scratchy, throat painful.

“Yes. Yes. I’m here, you’re okay. Just breathe.”

Malcolm obeyed, realizing he had been gasping ineffectually. Little by little, as more oxygen flowed his veins, he began to become aware of his surroundings. 

He wasn’t in a dark cellar, even if it was still relatively dark.

“Where...” He began, eyes jumping around himself, trying to recognize his  surroundings.

“You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be fine.”

Malcolm nodded distantly, eyes falling on the medical equipment around himself. After a couple of  minutes, he let Gil guide him back to lean against the soft mattress. His eyes closed as a wave of dizziness washed over him. 

John  Watkins sneering face flashed against his closed eyelids and he hurriedly opened them again.

“Mother? Ainsley?” He gasped out.

_ Had he stopped John in time? _ He couldn’t  remember, his memories fuzzy.

“They are both fine. I’ve sent them to a hotel to sleep.” Gil reassured, placing his hand on his shoulder, rubbing the tense muscles slowly.

Malcolm nodded, momentarily appeased. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling, forcing his respiration into a calming pattern.  One that he had learned with Gabrielle when he was just a child, so many years ago.

He forced his thoughts away from her, flashing back to his hallucination of her, coaching him to survive.

_ You have to create a place of peace and safety Malcolm. _

He repressed a growl. He was getting tired of hearing voices in his head.

He obeyed anyway, focusing his gaze on the patterns in the ceiling, keeping his breaths as deep as possible and regular.

Silence surrounded him for some time, broken only by the sounds of a sleepy hospital outside his room. It made him anxious. He started fidgeting, even if his body felt too heavy to move at the moment. 

He eyed Gil who was watching him, obvious worry  clear in his dark eyes.

“I’m fine Gil.” Malcolm whispered, even he felt anything but it.

The man just shook his head. It was clear he didn’t believe him but he chose to say nothing. After some more time, he fell back on the hospital chair with a deep, tired sigh that tugged at Malcolm’s heart.

“What happened Bright?” He finally asked.

Malcolm closed his eyes for only a second, mind flashing back with to watching Shannon bleed out, waking up chained to the floor, Watkins. He shuddered, residual terror gripping him. 

Gil’s hand on his arm brought him back to reality.

“We... We didn’t expect Watkins to be there. I... I was inspecting the house... I shouldn’t have left Shannon alone...”

“You couldn’t know Bright...”

“No...” He interrupted himself, clenching his uncast hand. “Watkins got to me. I should have defended myself better... Hell, I should have called for back-up before trying to chase him!”

He felt useless. What was the point of having entered Quantico if he couldn’t even fight off one serial  killer?

“Bright...”

“It’s true Gil you know it.”

Silence fell for a moment as both men reflected on that.

“How did you get stabbed?” Gil carried on.

Malcolm snorted.

“Funny story.” He said, ironic smile firmly in place despite the flashbacks trying to steal his attention. “Turns out I tried to stab him during that camping trip. This is my retribution for it.”

Gil mouth had dropped open. 

“What?” 

Malcolm shook his head., sighing.

“Don’t ask me. Everything is still fuzzy. But I think I kind of remember it...”

“But, why would you have done that?”

_ Your father took you there to kill you but couldn’t so I had to. _

Malcolm didn’t answer.

“Bright?”

“He said it was self-defense. He said Doctor  Whitly took me on this camping trip to kill me but when couldn’t Watkins took over and when he tried, I stabbed him.”

If Gil had looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to what he looked now. Malcolm ignored him, focusing on not panicking.

“I don’t believe it.” Gil finally said. “As much as I don’t like or trust your father, I don’t believe he would have wanted to kill you. I’ve seen how he reacted today.”

Malcolm shrugged and winced as it pulled on the stiches in his side. It wasn’t painful per say – the hospital sure had him on the good stuff- but it was still... There. A reminder. One he would carry forever.

“What a bout the hand then? Did Watkins break it too?”

The question broke through his darkening thoughts.

_ You only have to make your hand three inches. _

“No... No, that was me. He shouldn’t have left me with a hammer while he  threatened my family.”

His voice was fierce, the  protectiveness still running high in his veins.

“I’m sorry Malcolm.”

Malcolm turned his head back towards his friend, watching as he tiredly rubbed his face, guilt evident in his frame.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find you earlier.”

Malcolm reached out, arm shaking with the effort.

“You did nothing wrong Gil. You couldn’t have  known where I was.”

“It still feels like I should have done something more.”

“There really was nothing to do.”

They both knew it was true and yet both shared guilt. 

For a long time, they said nothing more. Maybe Gil thought Malcolm would fall asleep. He definitely felt exhausted enough for it. But he knew that would not happen. In fact, he was not sure he would ever be able to sleep again. He couldn’t even close his eyes without his mind taking him back to the basement of his family’s house. Or a cabin in the wood, knife in hand.

He quietly sighed, letting himself rest back on the mattress, listening to Gil’s breathing.

For the longest time, nothing more was said, both men taking comfort of the other presence as the room lighted up with the rising sun.

* * *

A quiet knock made Malcolm jump, sudden fear spreading through him, only slightly appeased by Gil’s hand on his shoulder.

They watched as a nurse entered. She looked surprised.

“Oh. Good morning. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake. How are you feeling mister Bright?”

“I’m okay.”

He clenched his unharmed hand to stop its nervous shaking.

“Any pain? Dizziness?”

His side and hand were both throbbing, but he was used to pain. He could take it. And he was itching to get out of hospital.

“No. No, I’m fine.” He lied, feeling Gil’s judging eyes on him.

The nurse nodded, obviously not convinced either.

“I’ll have to take a look at the wound. If you could give us some privacy, Sir?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll go grab a coffee and call everyone. They’ll want to know you’re awake.” GiI said, getting up, leaving the room with his coat.

Malcolm suddenly felt very alone and anxiety spread through him, coupled with shame for it. He was an adult. He could take care of himself. He forced his breathing in a regular pattern again., clenching his muscles unconsciously when the nurse approached him, gloves on. 

With practiced ease, she helped him pull the medical gown off, then slowly pulled the bandages away, his skin pulling. He gritted his teeth. 

Bit by bit, his skin was revealed, yellowish with the betadine they used in their effort to prevent infection. And then, finally, he could stare at the red gash that now marred his skin. It made him sick. John gleeful eyes as he plunged his knife deep inside his gut flashed before him and Malcolm jump.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my hands are always cold.” The nurse apologized, believing she had been the one startling him.

“It’s... It’s okay.” Malcolm forced out, shakily, still staring at the wound that will scar. 

Just like the one in The Junkyard Killer side.

_ We are the same. _

“Everything looks good. No signs of infection or bleeding.” The smiling woman’s voice interrupted his growing panic. “You were lucky no major organs were hit.”

Malcolm didn’t feel lucky. He felt anything but lucky.

“As long as you don’t move too much. I think you’ll be fine.” 

“When can I get out of hospital?”

The nurse went to retrieve new bandages, gently washing his side with  disinfectant before applying them.

“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask the doctor this. Probably tomorrow or  the day after. I think he wanted to monitor you for a bit.”

Malcolm tensed. Two days? He wasn’t sure he could make it two days there. The unfamiliar place was not helping his already high anxiety levels. All he wanted was to get back to his home, his parakeet, and try very hard to ignore everything that had happened. 

He wanted... Normalcy. Or at least, his version of it.

The little annoying voice in his head told him that was probably not going to happen. Normalcy, even his own brand of it, was definitely not his thing.

“Can I do anything else for you?” The nurse asked. Malcolm had forgotten about her. 

“Oh. No. Thank you.”

“Don’t hesitate to call if that changes.”

And with that, she was out of the room, leaving Malcolm alone. His eyes jumped around himself. His breathing sped up.

_ Calm down Bright,  _ he told himself firmly.  _ You’re okay. Calm down. _

It wasn’t much help. 

He felt frustration rise at himself.

He wished he could get up and run. Run as far away from his demons as he could. Run until he couldn’t anymore.

He wished he wasn’t himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. Again, it made him jump, but he was already so  riled up that it couldn’t make him panic much more.

He tried to call out but his voice failed him, the door opened anyway. He watched confusedly as Dani appeared. He didn’t expect to see her. 

Her smile warmed him, chasing a bit of the panic in him. Just like it happened in the precinct.

“Hey.” She said softly, closing the door behind her.

“Hey.” He parroted, hating that she caught him in such a moment of weakness but immensely  relieved to see her.

For some reason, she always seemed to know how he felt, even when he was trying his very best to hide it. And yet, she never made him uncomfortable. He remembered how she tried to comfort him only days ago. Was it only days? It felt like a lifetime since his main issue was his relationship with Eve falling apart.

She surprised him by hugging him tightly against her, being careful of his injuries nonetheless. He let himself take in her warmth, breathing in her scent and letting the anxiety, fear and darkness in his mind recede.

And then she pulled back, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.

“That was for not calling for back-up.” She clarified at his outraged glare.

He let out a surprised laugh, wincing as his side pulled. 

“Okay, right. Guess I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do.” She sat down, placing her hand on his, squeezing it. “I’m glad you’re okay, Malcolm.”

She rarely used his first name. That’s how he knew she really meant the words. He nodded slowly. 

The silence that  enveloped them was not awkward, despite everything. Malcolm found himself relaxing, focusing on her hand still resting on his, quietly giving him comfort without overwhelming him.

Against his best judgement, he let his eyes close. He was not assaulted by flashbacks.

He may have fallen back asleep if not for the sudden crashing open of the door followed by clacking heels.

The heat of Dani’s hand left him to be replaced by his mother hugging him. 

“Malcolm, oh Malcolm.” He could tell she was only barely stopping tears.

“I’m fine mom.” She didn’t let him go and he thought that he may soon be suffocated to death.

“Mom, let him breathe.” Ainsley ‘s voice came.

His mother finally let him go and Malcolm saw his sister, standing behind her. She was grinning at him, eyes glistering. The sigh of the white bandaged on her head suddenly reminded her that he had seen blood on her face, before passing out. 

He hadn’t even remembered it. He hadn’t even worried about it.  Guilt crushed him. 

“ Ains ! How are you?”

She shook her head and hugged him quickly.

“I should be the one asking that question.”

“No, no, you were hurt. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, Mal.” She reassured him. He couldn’t detect any lie in her eyes. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Ready to get out of here really.”

“That’s out of question.” His mother interrupted and he rolled his eyes. 

“Mother. I am fine. The nurse that came earlier said I was healing okay and that there was no trace of in infection. I can rest at my place just the same as here.”

His declaration was met with skeptical eyes  all around him except for Dani who just looked resigned.

A knock interrupted them before a tall man in a white coat entered. He looked surprised at seeing four people surrounding his patient at such an early hour of the morning. 

“Doctor, surely you can tell my son that he shouldn’t be released from the hospital so soon.”

Malcolm grimaced at her choice of word. He saw Dani shudder too and frowned. 

“Well. I would indeed prefer to keep him under surveillance for a couple more days. There is still a risk of infection. But I also have seen his history of AMA discharges.”

“I’m fine doctor.”

The man nodded.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I let you go as an out-door patient but I want you to come check in every day for a week. And you don’t stay alone. Just in case.”

Malcolm thought about it. But, in the end, being in his own flat definitely won over the obligation to have someone there with him.

“All right. We have a deal.” 

“Perfect. I’ll send a nurse help you dress and we’ll get you your release papers and appointments.

“But doctor!” Jessica protested, outraged.

“Mrs.  Whitly , I’ve been a doctor for a long time. Trust me when I say patients like Malcolm heal far better like that than if we force them to stay in hospital.”

Malcolm was impressed to see his mother speechless. He thought that he should probably send this doctor a bottle of whisky for it. And for letting him go.

The same nurse as before came back only minutes before and the occupant of the room were made to leave. Dani announced she had to go to the precinct but promised Malcolm she should drop by his flat later. He expected Gil to follow suite but the man explained ha had taken a few days of well-deserved holidays.

Malcolm was touched about it but tried to protest the man wasting days off for him. Gil just shot him a look that stated they were useless.

“Your family really cares about you.” The nurse commented, smiling as she helped him up.

The profiler hummed, thinking back to how terrified he had felt when he had thought he had lost them.

_ I protect my family. _

And it was true. If nothing else, he would always protect his family. No matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you liked it. I'm not quite sure of the ending but well.... I really wanted to post it!
> 
> Fo rthe moment, I didn't start a chapter 4 and I don't know if I will... I guess I'll wait for your opinions for it.
> 
> (and yes, in case anyone wonders, I definitely hinted at my personnal ship there. I always try to keep my stories 100% canon but this time, I just couldn't be stopped)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this time, that's it. Last chapter. I've been convinced by all the love out there.
> 
> I could never express just how thankful I am for the support, the kudos, the comments. You are all far too nice to me!
> 
> Thank you!

Blood. Blood on her hands. Sticky warm blood that was running through the gaps between her fingers as she tried to stop it.

“No, no, no. Bright...”

Dani woke up with a gasp, heart pounding in her chest. It took her a minute to get orientated. She was in her flat, in her bed. The rest was nightmare.

She checked the time on her radio. 5 AM. She felt exhausted. But the images of her nightmare were too fresh in her mind. She just knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep again. 

She pushed herself up, leaving sweat laden bedsheets to go to her kitchen, switching on her boiler, preparing herself a cup of tea.

Her mind turned back to Bright. She hadn’t seen him since his rescue, if it could be called that when he freed himself before they even found him. 

She had read the reports thought. The ones from the CSU and units that arrived first on scene. She had seen the pictures. The dark cellar with bloody marks on the ground, the dark patch on a white fluffy carpet that could only be Bright’s blood. Her imagination had supplied her with what had very probably happened.

And then, there was how they found John Watkins. Locked up in an ancient box. It made her shudder. They had all seen and understood that, as a child, the man had been regularly locked in his cupboard by his grand-parents. It was both cruel and merciful to have put him in a same situation. Dani thought she probably would have killed the man.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, breathing in the smell of tea. She thought back to the last couple of days, wondering again and again if they could have found Bright earlier. 

She also couldn’t stop thinking that she should have offered to take him home on that dreadful day where he had been taken. She had seen how distraught he had been. How... Broken he had looked. She had said they could be friends and yet she just offered him platitudes and left him to go to a Christmas dinner where he obviously had not wanted to go without even offering to drive him. 

She could have stopped him for even disappearing. 

And that was what hurt her the most.

She took her cup to her living room and turned on her TV, aimlessly switching channels in hope to distract herself. It didn’t work. And after an hour she decided she could just as well get ready for her day. She took a shower, as hot as she could bear it and dressed. 

And then, she found herself hesitating. It was still very early, not too early to go to the station, but it wasn’t where she wanted to go. Decision made, she took her car’s keys and made her way out.

The call came as she was already halfway to the hospital.

“He’s awake.” Gil’s voice said, sounding relieved. And yet she detected something in his voice. She refrained from asking.

“I was about to come in.” Dani answered instead. 

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. I’ll wait for Jessica and Ainsley but you can go up if you want. Room 1042.”

“Got it. See you later then.”

She arrived soon after, parked and made her way into the hospital. She asked for her way to the reception and followed the instructions until she reached a door with the right number on it.

She braced herself and knocked. She waited for some time but when no answer came, she slowly opened the door. Immediately, her eyes fell on Bright. He was pale, his eyes wide and breathing fast. 

“Hey.” She said softly, closing the door. She knew that with him the best way to act was to not mention the elephant in the room.

“Hey.” He answered, his voice breathy and low. It made her heart squeeze painfully. 

So, she approached him and hugged him, minding his injury but still hoping to express comfort she couldn’t with words. She felt him relax a bit against her and smiled softly. 

She pulled back and hit him, just like she would have any friend who scared her like he had.

She was glad when her comment about back-up brought a small smile to his face. It was nowhere near his usual grin but it was a beginning.

She settled down on the chair near the bed, keeping her hand on his almost unconsciously. 

They didn’t talk more but Dani was okay with it. She knew Malcolm didn’t like what he perceived as pity. And she wasn’t good at finding the right words. So, she settled for gesture.

It seemed to work as Bright settled on his bed, relaxing and closing his eyes. She smiled hiddenly, warmed at the proof of trust he was displaying.

That’s why she cursed in her head when the noise of an approaching Jessica  Whitly made him jump in alarm.

She didn’t even have time to try and calm him again before the room was a flurry of activity. She wouldn’t blame Bright to be overwhelmed. She felt it. She retreated in a corner, observing the scene happening, not even surprised when her friend demanded to be let out of the hospital. 

Not that she wasn’t concerned. He definitely did not look like he should be anywhere but a hospital bed but she understood the need to be in familiar settings. After her overdose, she had despised being stuck in a hospital bed too.

She was thankful for his doctor being understanding. Even if her curiosity was picked by the mention of AMA discharges. Just how many times had Malcolm been hurt enough to warrant a trip to the hospital?

As everyone prepared to leave to let the nurse help him dress, she approached him again.

“I have to go to work but I’ll come see you later, if it’s okay for you?”

Malcolm nodded, eye earnest and almost surprised at the proposition.

“You know where to find me.”

She smiled.  Of course, she did. Almost too well.

* * *

She had really meant to visit Bright as soon as her shift ended but, unfortunately, police work was nothing but unpredictable. A case of a missing child had meant all hands on deck and it was only early next day that she allowed herself to go back to her flat for a couple of hours rest before being back at work.

Thankfully, they managed to find the missing girl in 30 hours. And everyone was just too relieved and exhausted after the stress that all they could think of was getting home and to bed. Even her. 

This meant in took her two days before she could make her way to Bright’s neighborhood. It was mid-morning and pretty warm for the season. She appreciated the sun on her face as she walked towards the well-known building.

She had texted Gil earlier and learned that he was the designated baby sitter and had proposed to swap with him so he could get to his own home and drop to the precinct. After all, he did have  responsibilities outside of caring for their profiler.

She rang and had to wait only a minute before being buzzed in. She quickly went up the stairs, careful of the bag she was carrying. 

The door was opened when she arrived and she entered to find a silent flat. She looked around and saw that Malcolm and Gil were both sitting in the comfy couches of the living room, both seemingly tense.

“Hey there.” She announced, hoping to cut through the weird tension. 

“Hey Dani.” Gil answered, getting up to greet her. “That’s my cue to go then. I’ll be back later.”

Bright didn’t seem to react and Dani sent a worried questioning glance at her boss. He gestured at her to follow him.

“He’s being very... Malcolm right now.” He whispered, eyes sad and tired. “He’s not sleeping more than an hour consecutively and he’s barely communicating. I... I don’t really know what to do.”

“Don’t worry Gil. I’m sure he’ll get better. He just needs time.”

The man didn’t seem convinced but resigned. They both knew nothing much was to be said. He put on his jacket and turned back to the living room.

“Bye Bright. Be nice to Dani.”

She shook her head as he closed the door after himself.

“I brought you soup. Made it myself so I can’t promise it’s excellent but well.”

She went to his kitchen and put the food container into his pretty much empty fridge. 

“Do you need anything from here while I’m there?”

No answer came and she repressed a sigh. She had never expected him to be the same as he had been. Nobody could be after an experience like his. But she still worried.

She steeled herself. She would not make him feel guilty for the way he acted. 

She approached the living room and observed the slumped Malcolm Bright. To say he looked exhausted would still be too nice. He looked ragged, sitting just staring at nothing in particular.

“Hey.” She repeated, just so she doesn’t startle him. “Mind if I sit here?”

She nodded to the space next to him. He shrugged  noncommittally .

It was enough of an agreement for her and she gently sat down next to him, almost close enough to touch but not quite.

He didn’t  acknowledge her but didn’t tense either. She took it as a win.

“I’m sorry I didn’t  come earlier. A child went missing.”

Malcolm shrugged again.

“It’s okay. Not like I was alone anyway.” He finally said.

“Yeah, well, better  than the hospital, right?”

Silence met her question.

“How’s the wound?” She finally asked, she saw his hand minutely tense where it rested against his side.

“Fine.”

She bumped his shoulder gently and he sighed.

“It burns. I’ll survive.” The voice sounded like they had a double meaning, she let it go.

“I have no doubt about that.”

Silence fell again, more comfortable as she let her shoulder against his.

“Tell me about your case.” He asked after a moment, sounding ready for his request to be denied.

Well, if it was what it took to make him communicate, it worked with her. And like that, she started talking, getting settled against the back of the sofa and Bright.

When she reached the rescue of the girl, she noticed that his breathing was deep and regular. A glance showed that he had fallen asleep. She let her head fall back, glad he had found some respite. 

* * *

As Gil had warned, it wasn’t long before she felt  Bright shift against her, muscles tensing and breathing speeding up. 

She hesitated before shaking him gently, her gut twisting at his pained expression. 

“Bright? Bright? Malcolm, wake up!”

He jumped away from her and she raised her hands. 

“Hey, it’s just me. It’s okay. You’re fine.” She said, hoping the haunted look in his eyes would  disappear . 

He deflated, shoulders and head bowing as he blushed. Dani wouldn’t let him feel ashamed because of her so she did the only thing she could think of and hugged him tightly against her. She was surprised when she felt him grab her shirt and shake, crying on her shoulder.

“Okay, it’s okay.” She comforted rubbing his back. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t know for how long they stayed like this but she was determined not to move before he did.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” He whispered, pulling away, still looking pretty much ashamed.

“Listen to me, Malcolm.” She used his first name on purpose, making sure he was listening to  her. “I don’t care, okay. You have every right to feel like crap right now. And I don’t care. I won’t think any less of you, okay?”

He didn’t seem convinced.

“Did you think any less of me when you learned I was a drug addict and overdosed?” She suddenly asked.

“What? No, of course not!” The outrage in his voice warmed her.

“Well it’s the same here. I don’t care about what you did, or what your father did, or what you think happened. I know you. I know you’re a good man. And I know that you will not be at the top of your game right now but I also know you will be. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But ultimately you will be. And in the meantime, and after, you’ll always have me. And Gil. And maybe even JT. Got it?”

He looked shocked at her declaration, eyes wide and emotional. 

“Got it?” She repeated. She wanted, needed, an answer.

“Got it.”

“Good. Now get your ass up. It’s time for lunch. And I’ve made soup.”

She didn’t wait for his agreement before pushing herself up and making her way to the kitchen and searching his cupboards for the needed pan to  heat her culinary creation.

She heard him shuffle towards her and only then realized that he was in the most casual outfit she had ever seen him with an old Harvard-printed hoodie and jeans.

“Didn’t know you even owned normal clothes.” She teased, hoping to dispel the heaviness of the previous discussion.

“And I didn’t know you cooked.”

“Well, what do you want me to say, I can’t tell you everything in one day. You’d get bored.”

She was pleased to hear him snort, glancing back to see a small smile on his face. She turned back to her work, letting the smell of food fill the flat. 

She easily found two plates and served, bringing the food to where Bright was sitting.

“Now eat up and maybe I’ll let you convince me to take you on a walk in the park. I’m sure you’re itching to get out of here.”

“You make it sound like I’m a dog.” He deadpanned.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

His expression  answered before his lips.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“I know.”

“Mother will probably kill you thought. Trust me, she’s fiercely over-protective.”

“I know. I’ll handle it. Besides, it’s an excuse to make you buy me an expensive tea in some expensive coffee shop.”

This time, Malcolm grinned. And then, miraculously, he started eating.

They were silent for a while, enjoying the warm food and companionship.

“Dani?” She hummed.  ”Thank you.”

And she knew he was not just thanking her for the food. But for her acceptance, her willingness to stick with him, despite everything. For her friendship. 

“Don’t mention it Malcolm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some final thoughts to share? I would love to hear them!
> 
> (also, I let myself watch promo videos for the next episode and I have half in mind to write something already. I have a feeling next episode will be hard on my fragile heart)
> 
> Again, Thanks for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As I mentionned, next part is already partly written.
> 
> And once again don't hesitate to post comments, they feed my soul!


End file.
